


direct action

by kenopsia (indie)



Category: Crooked Media RPF
Genre: Affection and laughter, M/M, Pregnant Sex, Threesomes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 14:01:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22975936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indie/pseuds/kenopsia
Summary: “Yeah. Right.” Ronan is still standing at his door. He’s holding his pillow.“Are you in trouble?” Tommy asks.“No, but his royal highness is overheated. He keeps tossing and turning and he can’t shed any more layers. I figured I might get away with sneaking in here, but I didn’t know you were such a tripwire.”Tommy crowds over to one side of the bed.
Relationships: Ronan Farrow/Jon Lovett/Tommy Vietor
Comments: 27
Kudos: 59





	direct action

Tommy goes from sleeping to upright in an instant. His first thought is: _ break in? _

He doesn’t have to come up with a second strategy. Ronan, in silhouette, is visible in the doorway, hallway light spilling across him from behind. 

“Hey,” Tommy rasps. His heart is still ricocheting around. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Ronan says. “I didn’t know you were—” Ronan waves his hands around, and Tommy figures he means a shitty sleeper. 

“I wish I could say it’s because I’m not in my own bed, but honestly, I’m never all that good at resting.”

“Oh,” Ronan blinks. “I hadn’t noticed.” 

Of course he hadn’t. “Well, you only ever see me sleeping after...” 

“Yeah. Right.” Ronan is still standing at his door. He’s holding his pillow. 

“Are you in trouble?” Tommy asks. 

“No, but his royal highness is overheated. He keeps tossing and turning and he can’t shed any more layers. I figured I might get away with sneaking in here, but I didn’t know you were such a tripwire.”

Tommy crowds over to one side of the bed. 

Ronan situates himself on the other side, and Tommy wonders if it would be good manners to turn away to give him some kind of privacy. Tommy is out of the habit of sleeping with other people. It takes about three seconds for him to be reminded how noisy a body just existing is, when there is someone to hear it. 

After the initial shock, Tommy finds himself grateful for the solid presence of Ronan, the dip and even breathing. Tommy turns his head to the other side to look at him, reaches out to give his arm a clumsy pat. 

It doesn’t take him long to drift off after that. 

“For fuck’s sake, Ronan!” Lovett almost shouts, some time later. All of the occupants of Tommy’s bed wake up, but this time Tommy doesn’t think: _ break in. _

Ronan’s hair is fit for finches. “You were so hot,” he says. 

“You’re my _ person. _We’re supposed to be suffering together,” Lovett says, and then, gait uneven with middling pregnancy, climbs into the middle. 

“I see you found some underpants that didn’t raise your core temperature.” 

“I was trying to be a good friend,” Lovett said, scowling. “But now that I see you’ve been gossiping about me.” 

“Lovett, if you’re too hot — ”

“No talking please, it’s bedtime.” Lovett says. 

Tommy, in their guest room, had been sleeping on a queen. It is probably not ideal for three grown men, but Lovett and Ronan are both on the small side, and honestly, Tommy’s not all that fussed about crowding. Lovett hasn’t changed shape enough that he can’t lie on his front, with his knee hiked up for added stability. 

He wasn’t wrong. He’s a furnace. Tommy can feel him, radiating heat and discomfort. He props himself up on his elbows, looking at the unhappy line of Lovett’s back and blows a long, cool breath over his shoulders. 

“Unf,” Lovett says into his pillow, and in a testament to how fucked up Tommy is about all of this, his disobedient body reacts to the rippling of Lovett’s shoulders. 

“Sorry you’re feeling miserable,” Tommy says, scratching softly between Lovett’s shoulder blades. 

“I don’t want apologies,” Lovett says, squirming under Tommy’s hand, rolling into the touch. “I only want direct action.”

Tommy locks eyes with Ronan over Lovett’s body. Ronan’s mouth is curled up at the edges. “Pity that you’re feeling so overheated, babe, because Tommy looks like he wants to roll you right over and get his mouth on you.”

Tommy feels hot all over, Ronan talking about him like that, like he’s just having a candid moment with his boyfriend. 

“Tommy could not possibly. I am a hideous troll,” Lovett declares. Tommy can hear the tinge of amusement in his voice, and knows that Lovett is trying to lock in the outcome. Of course Tommy’s not going to try to go to sleep and mind his business after that, like he would have if Lovett had said _ no thanks, I’d rather not. _

“Tommy thinks you look great,” Ronan says, and hops out of bed. He goes out the door and for a moment, Tommy’s stomach is in free-fall until Ronan comes back with Lovett’s water bottle, freshly refilled from the fridge. 

The thing is: Lovett does look great. Tommy can’t stop looking at him even when he’s just lounging in uncomfortable-looking positions at the office. Seeing him soft and rumpled around the house, tee shirts all getting tight around his middle, and catching Tommy’s brain on fire so consistently about it that he’s feeling like a low-grade pervert. 

Tommy maneuvers him against the headboard. Ronan puts the water bottle to his mouth and he takes a long pull. After, Ronan leans in to kiss him on the mouth. It’s so tender. Tommy can’t look away. 

Tommy wants to lean in and kiss Lovett right on his soft, just-kissed mouth, so he does. 

“I’m sorry you’re not comfortable, but I can think of some direct action to help you sleep,” he says, keeping himself up on his arms to cage Lovett in but so as not to suffocate him. 

“If you insist,” Lovett says. 

“We do,” Ronan says. Ronan was fond and indulgent before Lovett got pregnant. Now, there’s nothing out of bounds. Lovett could demand nightly pushups for the ambiance and Ronan would do his best. When Tommy had pointed that out, Ronan had rolled his eyes, telling him _ you’d be right down there with me, _and Tommy had felt caught out. 

Now, though. Tommy kisses down Lovett’s chest, stopping briefly to curl his tongue around Lovett’s nipple before blowing a long stream of breath across it. 

Ronan is close, close enough to get a hand between them and put his hand low on Lovett’s belly, so that his stiffening cock is against the back of his hand. Lovett rocks his hips up, shifting. 

Tommy looks up at Ronan, tries to telepathically communicate with him to best decide on how to divide and conquer the sprawl of Lovett’s body, but Ronan knows they don’t need that. Ronan covers Lovett’s eyes like he’s putting an office phone on mute. “Tommy, would you be a dear and — ”

Literally anything. Tommy would do literally anything for either of them. He’s just glad to be asked.

Ronan looks meaningfully at Tommy’s night stand. Tommy nods, too fast, reaching out an arm to collect the bottle he keeps there. 

Lovett sticks his tongue out like he would have if Tommy had spread his palm over his mouth, and Ronan takes his hands off Lovett’s eyes, kissing his temple. “Alright, monster,” he appeases. 

Ronan pours lube on both of Tommy’s hands. A lot. Tommy raises an eyebrow at him. Ronan shrugs. “We’ll put him in the shower, after. Obviously you’re not getting any sleep.” Lovett doesn’t argue, so Tommy sets both hands against, cupping his cock from both sides. He immediately regrets not taking the chance to get his cock in his mouth before the lube, but there’s always the next time. Maybe he can suck Ronan off after they get Lovett off and clean and resituated in comfort. 

Tommy drags his big hands up and down Lovett’s cock, slow, so slow, and Lovett’s eyes shudder closed. “Oh,” Lovett vocalizes, and Tommy wants to cover him, wants to grind down against him with his own cock, wants to smother him with his own body. Pictures it in all of its sweaty glory, but then shakes his head and busies himself with the task at hand. Ronan is curled around Lovett’s side, kissing the side of his neck and the wet sound of it wraps around Tommy’s dick. 

Ronan pauses to squirt _more lube _onto Lovett’s belly, right in the middle of Tommy’s handjob and Tommy laughs out loud about it. “What the fuck, Farrow?” 

“No such thing as too slippery,” he says, swiping a palm through the mess over Lovett’s dick, belly, between his thighs. 

“You say that until — laundry,” Lovett says, not quite a complete sentence, but the fact that he’s still in complete _ thoughts _means that Tommy should — 

“Tommy, you should finger him, I think,” Ronan says, and Lovett’s breath hitches. 

“Yeah, Tommy,” Lovett agrees, and Ronan moves to take over, putting his palm against Lovett’s dick, holding it against his belly and moving in long strokes, unhurried. Tommy holds a firm grip on Lovett’s hip with one hand and moves to press his fingers into him with the other. Lovett hikes up a knee, and Tommy plants a gentle kiss and then a soft bite into the meat of it. 

Tommy loves fingering Lovett. He’s responsive and sweet and pink. Tommy can feel him moving, tilting down into his grip, can feel the push pull him between Ronan and Tommy’s hands. Lovett is holding his shoulder, and the crush of his grip feels good, fills Tommy with anticipation. 

Tommy flutters, relentlessly, against the hard knot of Lovett’s prostate, can feel Lovett’s pulse everywhere. “Hey,” he says, voice gentle while he maintains a soft but consistent movement inside of him. “You’re amazing.” 

When he finally comes with a little cry, Tommy and Ronan share a look. “Hey bud,” Tommy smirks. “Good game.”

“Oh, fucking don’t,” Lovett says, putting the crook over his elbow over his eyes. “There is no dignity in you revert to your heteonormative ways.”

Lovett has half a bottle of lube still wet on his stomach, along with sweat, and his own come. “I’m not trying to no homo your boyfriend after fucking you,” Tommy assures him. “I think your boyfriend’s pretty great.”

“Prove it,” Lovett says, but he sounds sleepy and the kind of petulant that invites a laugh, gentle chaos. 

“Oh no,” Tommy laughs. “However are we going to do that?” 

Ronan, when he climbed into Tommy’s bed, was wearing a shirt and boxer briefs. He’s not sure where the shirt went. “I have some ideas,” he says, pressing the heel of his hand against a pretty obvious hard on. 

“Yes homo,” Tommy says. They’re already going to have to change the sheets. “You want to fuck me?”

“It’s cute that you think I wouldn’t come the second I got in you,” Ronan says. “Just get over here.”

Tommy shrugs. “It’s the thought that counts,” he says, grinning, and crashes into him, mouth first and hungry, reaching out one sticky hand to rest on Lovett while he rolls his hips against Ronan, hard cock behind the paywall of his sleep clothes. Tommy can feel it building, the animal heat of his body against Ronan’s. Lovett’s sleepy gaze tracks him from his own pillow, which has always, he can admit to himself, made everything better. 

It’s chaotic and sets off sparks in his brain, and he and Ronan grapple artlessly until Ronan grips Tommy, mouth open, and comes beneath him. Tommy gets a hand on himself to follow right behind, and then afterwards collapses on Ronan, twitching against him in the aftershock. 

“Lovett, I feel like we should maybe just hose you off,” Tommy says, after a short, hazy stint of his eyes being closed. “Seems like the easiest way.”

“You did this to me,” Lovett says. Tommy wriggles off of Ronan to situate himself nose to nose with Lovett. 

“Yes,” Tommy agrees. It’s not just — not just the mess, now, but it’s everything. Tommy’s plenty culpable. 

“Thank you,” Lovett says. 

Tommy will run a bath for Lovett if he wants, baby wipe him down if he wants, carry him into the shower if he wants. Tommy kisses him on both eyelids, which is very possibly the only clean real estate on Lovett’s whole body. 

Tommy feels Ronan’s hand at the small of his back, and reminds himself not to drift off, but it’s impossible not to linger in the warm silence of his room, Lovett, drained of all petulance on one side, and Ronan thoughtful on the other. He’s just going to enjoy it for a minute, and then he’s going to go set the thermostat to 60, because that’s what you do for love.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic owes a lot of thanks to BWTT groupthink and the buddies who helped it along, chatficced about it. 
> 
> To be clear, this fic has larger context, which... idk if you need it to enjoy what's going on here, but essentially
> 
> * Ronan and Lovett have occasional threesomes with Tommy  
* One of those threesomes leads to Lovett getting knocked up  
* There is pining  
* Tommy's apartment becomes unlivable (mice? water damage?) through Universe Magic  
and he has to stay with Ronan and Lovett  
* While Tommy lives with them, there are tensions and nonsense but eventually they figure out that they're a they, the end


End file.
